Reverse, Inverse, Opposite, Mirror
by Geniusgirl The Original
Summary: [One-shot] And since Seto Kaiba was infamous for his inabilty to love, he did the next best thing... [SetoAnzu]


**Reverse, Inverse, Opposite, Mirror**

**A Yu-Gi-Oh Fan Fiction**

Seto Kaiba hated everything about her – everything.

Where to start? He had hated her since forever, for as long as he could remember being painfully aware of her existence.

He loathed her friends, which were the first things people noticed about her. She would be so elated to hear _that_. He thought it was pathetic, needing others to... needing others in general. Her friends were obnoxious, overbearing, substandard duellists who marred the reputation of anyone unfortunate enough to cross their paths. Only Motou had any skill and Seto had already grudgingly granted him some level of respect. Otherwise they were, in his opinion, a total waste of time. But so was she.

He hated the fact that she thought she could stand up to him on her friends' behalf, on her own. She was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. He tended to lean toward her being stupid. Speaking of which, he despised her loyalty to her no-account friends. She stood by them through thick and thin, claiming that their friendship was unbreakable. He had news for her: everything breaks at some point.

He detested her complete and unwavering belief in the power of Friendship as much if not _more _than he hated Yugi's belief in the 'Heart of the Cards'. He hated that she could believe in something so much... and that she had never thus far been disappointed by it.

He hated her for even speaking to him at Duellist Kingdom, for shouting at him, for reprimanding him, for challenging him... for telling the truth. He hated the fact that she had been, to a degree, correct in her accusations. He hated the fact that her questions had made an impact on him. They had stayed with him for months after and when he'd come into closer contact with her in Battle City, they'd resurfaced with full force. And he'd hated them just as much.

He abhorred owing her his brother's life. He hated that he felt he still did. Even though he had managed to almost single-handedly stop the Rare-Hunter in the crane, he still felt as though he hadn't... done enough. Perhaps it had something to do with the way she had finally thanked him. But Seto Kaiba, _the_ Seto Kaiba, never felt undeserving. Except in this case and he hated it.

He hated everything about her.

He hated her stick-straight, thick, soft brown hair that smelt subtly of TRESemmé shampoo. It was something that never stood out, something that made her just a little bit more mediocre. She had never considered changing it. She grew it out a bit but she never did anything to make it more than it was. He wondered if, in the end, that would be a metaphor for her life.

He hated her clear, perceptive blue eyes that never seemed to follow him but could always find him in an instant. They were a curse upon his soul any day of the year. Yet in some way, it pleased him to know that he held her attention. It unnerved him to think that her connection to him (and _never_ vice versa because he was _not_ connected to her) was that strong.

He hated her smooth skin and the way the feel of it made his own burn. She made a habit of touching. Sometimes it struck him as one of her needs – to touch. Sometimes, her touches just struck him. She touched him too much, too lightly, too deeply, too infrequently, in too many ways. It drove him crazy, it was insufferable.

He hated her curves, every single tempting one – true works of the devil. What more was he to say? He hated the way they slid deliciously beneath his roaming hands. The way they lent to her swaying walk, making it all the more horribly tantalizing. They were yet another thing for her to taunt him with.

He hated the way a single lock of hair would fall over her eyes and he hated that he almost always had to physically fight the urge to reach up and tuck it behind her ear.

He hated the sound of her voice. It varied but it was still intolerable, the way it wafted over him like perfume no matter where he was. He had never liked feminine perfume too much. He especially hated her inflections – a light, cheerful one when she was alone with Mokuba; a gentle, calming one when he was with them. Then there was tone his feelings were most ambiguous about (which made him hate it all the more): the utterly sexy one she used when it was just the two of them.

He hated everything about her.

He hated the ease with which she had won his brother's trust, respect and admiration. She had not done anything to gain attention, to make herself worthy of respect or admiration but she had managed to gain them from the only person whose opinion mattered in Seto Kaiba's world – Mokuba Kaiba's. It should not have been so simple for her.

He found the ease with which she read him repulsive. She knew what he was without out needing to be told. She knew when he needed her without needing to be told. She only came to him when he needed her. She came to him when he didn't even realize that he needed her. She always seemed to _know_. It pushed him away. There was an intimacy about it he could not stand.

He hated the ease with which she had made herself a part of his life. She had simply slipped in, unbeknownst to him, and taken up a position. It had been that easy for her. He hated the ease with which she did everything she had to and anything she wanted to.

He hated everything about her.

He hated the fact that she knew – _she knew_ she would never get anything out of him, that he would never be what she wanted. And he hated the fact that she accepted it. In his eyes it made her weak, too weak to fight for what he knew she wanted, too submissive.

He hated her selflessness. She gave so freely. She gave him her body. She gave him her time. She gave him her energy, her life. Perhaps it made her a bit of an idiot. She knew he would not give her those things back. She never took the material things he tried to give her in their place because... well, just because his long dead conscience had found a way to haunt him. He hated her for not taking in return, not wanting something in return.

He hated everything about her.

Most of all, he hated how she made him feel.

He hated that he wanted her.

He hated that he needed her.

He hated how she could make him seethe inwardly.

He hated how she could make him smile inwardly.

He hated everything about her.

He hated the way she moaned his name – something between a sigh and a scream.

He hated the way he moaned hers – between a sigh and a scream.

He hated the jealousy that arose within him when she was around other men.

He hated her lack thereof.

He hated her confidence in herself and in their twisted relationship.

He hated his lack thereof.

He hated everything about her.

He hated their similar tastes in music.

He hated their similar tastes in art.

He hated their similar tastes in food.

He hated their similar tastes in clothes.

He hated their similar tastes in colour.

He hated their similar tastes in literature.

He hated their similar taste in fragrances.

He hated their similar tastes.

He hated everything about her.

He hated... how much he hated her.

He hated that he hated her.

He hated that she hated him.

He hated that he depended on her.

He hated that she didn't depend on him.

He hated...

He hated that he hated that he loved her.

Because he did. He loved her so much. He was in love with her, whether or not he wanted to be. And he knew that she was in love with him too, whether or not she wanted to be.

He hated that he had bought the ring in his pocket.

He hated that he was nervous.

He hated that he couldn't smile for her.

He hated that she smiled for him.

"Yes."

There is no love without hate and no hate without love. To feel something as strong as hate, one must acknowledge the existence of the other and attach a considerable amount of importance to them and their presence in one's life.

And since Seto Kaiba was infamous for his inability to love, he did the next best thing. He hated Anzu Mazaki with a passion. A passion she readily reciprocated.

_I hate everything about you.  
Why do I love you?  
You hate everything about me.  
Why do you love me?_

_**Finis**_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Weird? Yes. Philosophical? I don't know. Mainly something to conquer writer's block for Chapter 8 of _You, Revisited_. I can tell you now that this didn't help me get any further on the damn chapter but I actually kind of liked how this turned out.

Besides, I did an Anzu one-shot and these two always speak to me as a pair. It's never one or the other, they're _always _together. I suppose that's why they're a couple.

Inspired by, as you must have already realized, **_I Hate Everything About You_** by **_Three Days Grace_**. Lyrics are reprinted without permission.

**LEAVE A REVIEW PLEASE! ANYTHING IS GREATLY APPRECIATED. HOWEVER, CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM WILL BE TAKEN IN BETTER STRIDE THAN FLAMES. THANKS.**


End file.
